Skyhooked Punk- Day Three - Saving Vas Jat
There wasn’t much Captain Keller disliked more than Unification Day, and there weren’t enough bottles to find the bottom of to make him change his mind. All he wanted was the Gorram ship fixed so they could get off the black rock of a skyplex and forget-- everything. So the fact that he’d been Skyplex side for a few hours and was still sober would have to change and fast. The man he’d seen about a job fell through, so to say he was in a foul mood was an understatement. To top it all off, the icing on the cake was the ruttin’ Skyhook not half a dozen bays from where they were parked. He’d have to keep a close eye on the quart and half pint, the Edwards were known “contractors.” That’s what jarred him the most when he saw the familiar sight of the rooster haired boy humping a box onto the ship. Keller approached the ship cautiously. He recognized Captain Edwards almost instantly, they’d had run-ins once or twice, but Keller had always managed to keep his distance. Next to her was a smaller woman, cute even, with pigtails and a pretty smile. “Captain Edwards. You taken to ‘recruiting’ again?” The captain looked up sharply from her clipboard, and Serena stood at the ready. “Everything good son?” He asked, not quite liking what he saw. Shirtless, shoeless and wearing a thin metal collar around his neck, he hoped the kid didn’t do anything he’d regret. Vas pause for a moment and blink looking at, of all people, Keller. Well wasn’t this a happy little potential nugget of good fortune. “Captain … Damn right these pieces of -” “Deckhand - you’re needed in the cargo bay. NOW.” Captain Edwards warned, before turning her attention to Keller. “He on-boarded with us looking for work, signed himself a contract, legal and binding.” “Now Edwards, you and me both know you’re a lot of things, but legal ain’t one of them. You don’t want this one, and even if you did, you can’t have him. He’s indentured to my ship for the next two years, owes me a sizable amount.” Keller bluffed. “It’s worked out in barter. So I’d appreciate it if you let me return ‘em where he belongs. Come on son.” “Guess that’s that” Vas said glaring at Edwards putting the box down. He wanted his hard-earned stuff back but he wasn’t going to press his luck at least now without a weapon. “I gave you an order, Deck,” Richelle reminded him, “You’d be wise to comply with it.” He hadn’t eaten. Of course, the haul in his bag would open the doors of any fine establishment out here on the Skyplex. Dorian was pondering whether he might persuade Marisol to cook something when the rickshaw bounced past the scene of what must surely be a liquor fuelled nightmare. A boat was being loaded. In and of itself, not an unusual sight. Floodlights bathed the ground beneath the cargo ramp where a dozen or more crates all lay in wait. Standing before them was a familiar silhouette. Captain Keller’s voice wasn’t raised as he spoke to the woman on the scene,, but his body language and the set of his jaw were enough to telegraph his discomfort. A figure shambled down the cargo ramp. Clad only in pants and the shackle that bound him to the ship, the young man moved slowly, as if favoring a number of sore spots. It didn’t take much to recognize the mohawk, made obvious when Vas Jat suddenly doubled over. Keller lifted his hands as if attempting to placate the woman. Whatever was being said was quiet, but he could read the tension...and the roaring of blood in his own ears. “Stop here,” Dorian ordered. He stuffed coins into the driver’s hand, grabbed his bag, and strode toward the scene. “Captain Edwards can’t be ordering around something that belongs to me and mine.” Keller repeated. “The boy will tell you himself. Ain’t you indentured to my ship, son?” “Sorry Edwards Keller called dibs before you did.” Vas said he eye sparing a glance to Richelle through narrowed eyes. “I’m sure when he’s done serving my two years, he’ll be happy to look you up in the verse and serve your tour.” Keller agreed, ushering Vas over to his side. “Fraid not.” Edwards shot back. “But perhaps he can look you up when the Skyhook is through with him. Possession after all - is 9/10 of the law. Cargo bay. Now, Deckhand.” Keller’s patience was wearing thin. “And theft is against the law --” “He signed the contract. Looks like that gives us both ownership.” “I didn’t give ‘em permission to sign anything, which renders your shit invalid.” Keller rationalized. . Without preamble, Adler stalked into the conversation. “Captain Keller, who in tha hell is this woman and why am Ah not putting holes in her face right now?” “Doc. This here is “Captain” Richelle Edwards. We had run ins before. She and I don’t exactly see eye to eye on recruiting methods. How’d she get you, son? Not watching your drink at a bar? What’s your game now, Edwards?” Before he could answer, Jat was given a second little ‘love tap’ reminder that he still belonged to the ship. Vas yelped jumping. “Sorry … stepped on a rock.” He said with a twitch waving at the two captains to continue. “Please don’t let me stop you …” It took a lot to not flip the biao zi (Bitch) the bird. “Looks like we’re at an impasse.” Edwards said, “But seeing as he’s tethered to MY ship, that gives me the advantage. He can go, provided I get two people- useful people - to take his place. He looks like a semi-useful people. Volunteering? You just have to find me one more.” Keller rubbed his chin, then the back of his neck. “No, but I can tell you that if you don’t give me the boy back, I won’t stop the semi-useful person backing me up from putting holes in your face like he done said.” “With pleasure,” Dorian growled as he swept the right lapel of his duster coat aside. “Think quickly, darlin’...Ah’m an impatient man.” “Killing me won’t free up your boy. Just means he belongs to my XO. And you ain’t got enough bullets in them pea shooters to take out my entire ship. But I tell you what, I’ve heard some things, Keller. You got a full up boat with some of those Drog Kryi that are all the rage on new Kasmir. What else you got on that ship that might be of interest? You still a gambling man?” “Skinfli-OW…” Vas hissed. “…lota stones on this gorram skyplex.” Vas muttered. “What -- or who -- do you have I might want to wager on in exchange for this piece of pig shit you say you own?” ~What the … is she flipping serious. Cuz Keller can’t be willing to bite the bait.~ Of all things, Vas was not going to trade him for two others to suffer as slaves to this crew. Keller balked. “He’s mine already.” Richelle continued. “Tall Card. One hand - make it worth my while if I win.” Keller shot a fast glance towards the kid with the rooster haircut before steeling his eyes back on Captain Edwards. Vas when to open his mouth to protest but another ‘love tap’ clamped his mouth shut. He leaned on the box to catch his breath. Adler laid a hand on his pistol. “Yah push that button on tha boy once more, an’ Ah’ll test yah theory ‘bout how many bullets Ah have.” Edwards chuckled and raised both her hands. “My crew chief gets a little zealous.” “A little?” Vas squeaked. “Ah see him flinch again, you an’ yah crew chief are both gonna get alot dead.” “You threaten me again and I promise you before my body hits the floor? His brain will fry and you can drag a drooling baboon back to that trash heap you call a ship. So while I’m still feeling cordial -- what are you willing to risk to get your deckhand back?” Captain Keller held up one finger, turning to side bar Dorian. “What are you thinking? Besides the whole shoot ‘em up, guns blazing, old west high noon shit?" Adler’s eyes remained fixed on Edwards, a stark promise. “She’s a gorram slaver, and all respect where it’s due, yah playin’ softball with her while she tortures your man in front of your face. Only bargain tah be had from her is one that screws yah six ways from Sunday.” “She’s convinced my boy to sign over all his rights for the next three years. We kill her fine, we steal him back fine - we’re on the Gorram Alliance’s radar not to mention persona non-grata at this space station, which burns this as a refuel pit stop. You want to be a cowboy - I respect that, but right now, Rooster kid’s got himself in way over his head, and my priority is gettin’ him out. So you can help me do that, or if you’d rather, find yourself another rickshaw.” Dorian remained, unmoving. “Go ta ma de yourself, Keller,” he whispered. “Your call. Your play. Ah’ll follow.” “How valuable is that med equipment we’re carting?” Adler fixed the captain with a sidelong glance. “The medical gear’s about twenty-thousand fah each crate. We got three.” “We got us a medical crate we’re deliverin’ - worth about twenty thousand. You can drug yourself three dozen unsuspecting deckhands for that, can’t you?” “Medical equipment ain’t gonna set itself up. You got a doc to throw in with it?” Keller balked again. Lunar Veil’s medic smiled for the first time. “Yes,” he replied. “Dorian Adler, ship’s physician...at your service.” “What?!” It was Vas’s turn to balk. “No way!” The punk declared. “That ain’t right! You can’t-” “Done deal.” Captain Edwards said, extending her hand. “Don’t shake that.” Keller warned. “You’ll wake up six hours later finding yourself signed up for three years.” “Wasn’t plannin’ tah,” Dorian replied. “As yah tha architects of this accord, Ah’m compelled tah ask y’all both what comes next.” “Next? The three of us are going to go somewhere real public like to play us a round of Tall card. Keep everything on the up and up and discourage the trigger happy.”